


The Thinning Fog

by ThatHCWriter



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: BAMFs, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Escape, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Found Family, Gen, Hope vs. Despair, Hurt/Comfort, Intrigue, Mild Family Feels, Mild Gore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Missing Persons, Mystery, Only Mildly Bloodthirsty Killers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Trauma, Survivor Guilt, We need more hope in this fandom, eventual reunions, left 4 dead references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29423202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatHCWriter/pseuds/ThatHCWriter
Summary: After countless trials, and seemingly endless waves of pain, things begin to slowly change for the survivors and killers alike. It's becoming harder and harder to ignore:The Entity is weakening.And for the first time in a long time, the survivors have a real shot at going home.
Relationships: Bill Overbeck & Laurie Strode, Bill Overbeck & Zoey, John "Jigsaw" Kramer & Amanda Young, Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Holbrook/Quentin Smith, Steve Harrington & Nancy Wheeler, Survivors (Dead by Daylight) - Relationship
Comments: 22
Kudos: 37





	1. Something in the Mist

**Author's Note:**

> Since I could find so few hopeful fics for DBD, I decided to write one myself. 
> 
> No major outside of canon warnings. Please enjoy!

Steve replayed the story in his head over and over as he sauntered back to the campfire. They wouldn't believe him if he didn't word this right, hell, why would they. It sounded crazy, foolish and naïve even to him and he was _there._ Bill and Jake would tell him to get over it, Nea would just laugh, maybe even flip him off, and Nancy, shit, Nancy would get more hope than she should. 

But something happened in that fucking trial. 

Something that had never happened before, something he couldn't explain, and if he wasn't mistaken, it might have been something good. 

_He was ducked behind a haybale, the distant but violent sound of a chainsaw taking up every ounce of his attention as he made sure the slowly chugging generator in front of him was safe, even if it wasn't being repaired. "Hey kid! What'n the hell are you doing?" A voice he'd never heard before called a bit too loudly from behind him, sufficiently scaring the living shit out of him. Steve almost fell onto the bails behind him, picking up a nearby rock and wielding it as threateningly as he could manage. "Woah woah woah," the man, an officer, Steve gathered by his uniform, displayed his palms in surrender, his eyes suddenly lighting up in recognition. "Say, what's your name kid."_

_"Steve. Steve Harrington, why?" Steve kept his voice down out of instinct, the trial fading to the back of his mind in the moment. The officer froze dead in his tracks, a shaking hand reaching for the walkie on his chest (Steve couldn't help but notice the patch on his arm, blue with a yellow staff that stirred something in his memory.)_

_"Holy shit.. I never thought.. Ho holy shit," the officer said dumbfoundedly, pressing down on the button to speak, "Chief, I need you out here right now." Someone grumbled on the other side of the line. "Hop, I'm serious. It's... It's Harrington. I found Harring..." The sound of a chainsaw drawing dangerously near tore his attention away from the... Man? Spector? Hallucination? He wasn't sure what to call him. After watching The Hillbilly dash at Meg in the distance, and momentarily freezing the thought that he should be helping her, he turned back around to face the man again._

_But he wasn't there. In his place stood a thick shaft of smoke, a haze thicker and more purposeful than the typical clouds littering the hellscapes he'd grown accustomed to. It took him a long moment to regain his composure after that, his mind ablaze with questions he didn't know how to even approach, until the alarm sounded and the gates whirred to life. He made it to a switch box, faintly wondering if it was taking a lot less time than normal, or if he was just distracted, and running out of the trial unharmed, but confused._

_So. Ridiculously. Confused._

He came to the tentative conclusion that it was a hallucination, something The Entity showed him just to mock him for lingering hope. But even that didn't make sense to him. Why didn't it hurt him then? If not that, why didn't it at least draw the killer's attention, make him easier prey? It was all too much for him in the moment, especially to ponder alone. 

He owed it to the others to tell them. 

But it was crazy. It was so fucking crazy. 

So when he steadied himself before the group at the campfire, rocking back and forth on his heels and shaking his head to himself before he spoke, he felt like the town maniac, yelling about some mythical way out of the people's suffocating circumstances. 

"Something weird happened to me in there," Steve blurted out, somehow not thinking about his precise words. Bill sneered, shaking his head. 

"I'm assuming you mean aside from the monsters chasing you around and throwing you on sacrificial meat hooks." Steve sighed. 

"Yeah. I mean... I saw something. Someone. A cop, said he's been looking for me. He uh.. He didn't seem like he wanted to hurt me." There was a long moment of silence. Steve looked to Nancy with pleading eyes, "He radioed for Hopper. Mentioned him by name." Nancy froze. 

"Are you... Are you kidding me?" Nancy's jaw was wide open, her eyes blinking rapidly. 

"You seriously think I'd lie about something like this?" Bill chuckled aloud, a cold stare on his face and a strange glint in his eyes.

"Well what the hell do you think that meant? You think this is some sign? From who, home?" Bill shook his head darkly, "It's in your head, kid. getting to you worse than usual.. Gah, I can't deal with this right now. Laurie, can you talk some sense into these damn kids?" No response. Not even a twitch. "C'mon, Laurie. They're not listening to me worth a shit."

Laurie wasn't paying any mind to Bill, however. Her eyes were locked on Steve's, her head slowly shaking in disbelief. Bill approached her calmly, his hands outstretched in an attempt to appear docile. "Everything okay?" 

"I thought I was losing my mind." Laurie said with all the seriousness of a heart attack, her eyes not breaking from their position somewhere between Steve and the murky horizon. Bill stepped back as if he'd been struck.

"What are you saying?" 

"The last trial I went into, I got done with a gen, turned around, and I... I could have sworn I saw Doctor Loomis. He asked me if I was okay, what was happening to me, but the second I turned away... I mean just like Steve said. He was gone." Disbelief flooded Laurie's words and the faces of the other survivors simultaneously. 

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" 

"God, Bill did you not see yourself? I knew you all wouldn't believe me, for a while I barely believed myself. Plus, it only happened once. I was gonna say something if it happened to another person, I never thought it'd actually..." Laurie cut herself off with a noise that sounded somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. Everyone froze, staring at each other as if one of them was holding a ticking bomb.

"Anyone else?" Dwight said firmly after a long stretch of silence, his eyes darting around the frozen circle. Reactions varied from confusion to near offense, most of the group coming up empty, until a shaky, silent hand raised from the back of the group. 

"Yeah... My last trial, I uh.... I saw Nancy," Quentin spoke slowly and timidly, his arms crossed over his chest and fidgeting with his necklace. 

"I was there, Quentin, of course you..." 

"No," Quentin said darkly, interrupting her, "Not you, Nancy... My girlfriend, Nancy. The one from back home," he laughed humorlessly, "Just like you guys, she asked me what I was doing, seemed like she was amazed to see me." There was a strange silence between the survivors, their minds drifting between confusion, fear, and more so than ever before, hope. None of them wanted to say it, fear of jinxing things clouding their minds, but it felt like a change. "Something's happening, you guys." 

"But how do we know what it is?" Meg said sharply, her posture and tone both severely on edge, "I mean, is it getting worse? Getting into our heads somehow?"

"Or is it getting better? I mean if we're meant to be hurting, if this thing wants us to suffer, why is it showing us home?" Adam said matter-of-factly, his mind clearly churning with possibilities. 

"Are you suggesting it might let us go?" Jeff asked hopefully, turning to the others in the hopes of spotting agreement. He was only met by confusion. 

"I don't... It might not be on purpose. Maybe it's not showing us them. Maybe they're breaking through somehow," Adam theorized, drawing a few hopeful nods from the crowd. 

"You know what?" Kate added hesitantly, "now that you say it, have the tasks been getting easier for anyone else?" Quiet but confused affirmations lit up the crowd around her. "Adam might have a point." 

"So what do we do about it? I mean, if you're right, we should probably make a plan. We won't have a shot if we don't think this through," Claudette replied, glancing to Adam. 

"We don't know enough right now. As much as I hate to say it, all we can do is be alert. Next time you go to a trial, look for any out you can. Any other evidence you can," Adam paused momentarily, drawing the attention to him fully, "Look, I don't know if this is a good thing. But even if it might be a chance, even a sliver, it's worth it."

They broke out into their tents for the moment, waiting for the next trial to commence like usual, but holding another feeling in their chests that was far from the norm. There was, for the first time since they'd arrived, a real sense of hope. Some of them felt like it was a new reason to live. Some of them... didn't.

Feng was, in all honesty, a little disappointed. She always knew there was a way out of here (if that's even what this was), but this didn't feel satisfying. There was no triumph, no fanfare, no grit. It wasn't a win, it was a cheat. Jake couldn't care less if he made it out soon. The only thing that would change if he went back to his old life was the presence of bloodthirsty killers, and even with that, his old forest didn't seem much better than this one. David wasn't exactly sure how to feel, seeing as handcuffs were in all likelihood what awaited him on the outside. 

And then, there was Bill. 

He remembered those days when he was fighting back the undead hoards, when he would cling himself to any hope not for himself, but for Zoey. He had to hold on to hope, because she was holding on, practically begging for some semblance of a chance. A chance that the nightmare would end, a chance to get back to something that looked like home. That light, that spark of promise was still in her eyes as she bled out in his arms, his hands shaking around the trigger as he put her zombified remains to rest. 

Bill had seen what hope does to kids like that. He recognized the look in Quentin and Nancy's eyes, it stirred within him something he wished, no, thought, was dormant. Those were kids just like Zoey, kids who didn't deserve the hell they'd been thrust into. 

He wanted to believe them. With every ounce of his being he wanted to believe them. But it hurt him, it hurt him to his core to see that hope again, which was almost certainly going to be snuffed out by the cruelty of this world. 

He admired them, but he couldn't invest in their dreams of escape. Especially not when there was so much still unknown.

So, Bill Overbeck sat alone in his tent, silently pondering the chance, the dream that he didn't want to face. 

\---

Hawkins, Indiana, 1985

Jim Hopper was moving as fast as his car would let him to the site just outside of the lab that his deputy called him from. _Harrington. He'd found Harrington. And then he was gone?_ It made even less sense when he pulled up to find his deputy staring at a clearing dumbfounded, his flashlight hanging limply from his hand. 

"Where'd he go?" Hop asked as he closed the car door, walking toward his deputy hesitantly. 

"I.. I don't know. He was just standing there, ducking behind nothing like something was chasing him, and then he just... Disappeared." Hopper almost scoffed. 

"What do you mean he disappeared?" The deputy shook his head, and Hopper sighed. He'd frankly had enough of this shit in recent years, what with the telekinetic kids and talking Christmas lights. But he wasn't going to let whatever was wrong with this town take two others. It was a lead, and that was insane considering... Well, everything. 

"He just turned away from me one second and..." The deputy shook his head as he spoke, as if forcing a memory out from his mind, "He vanished. Turned away into the mist."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read! Hope this got you interested, cause I've got plans.....
> 
> Please consider leaving a comment or kudo if you've got the time or liked the fic! Have a great day!


	2. Hello Amanda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world is changing for the killers as well, and the devout priestess feels she might know why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an update! A little shorter, but I hope you still like it! No major warnings aside from killers being their profane, kinda shitty selves. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Amanda came back from the trial in a stupor. The smell of blood on her blade was almost nauseating even for the seasoned apprentice, and her head was throbbing with enough intensity to nearly land her on her ass. She threw her mask off with a huff, clutching her head miserably. She wasn't usually this wiped after a trial, and she waited impatiently for the wave of energy The Entity provided them after the especially bad outings to kick in. No luck. _Get up, Amanda. Stop being so fucking lazy._ A voice in her head had been snapping at her the entire trial, fluctuating between the confused, yet nurturing voice of John Kramer and the sharp criticisms of Mark Hoffman. 

God, she hadn't heard those voices in a long, long time. Her life had changed completely since then, she'd gained her own MO, her own status. She was no longer the apprentice, she was The Pig. And The Pig didn't need their help, even their input.

She loved John. She truly did, and as much as hearing his voice put her at ease, she'd come to terms with the fact that he was not here. She didn't long for him, or for anyone since her early days in the realm, and this had made the voices in her head grow quiet long ago. 

So why wouldn't her mind shut the hell up? She hadn't heard anything like that before, _Mark too? Why would it want her to hear Mark?_ So why the hell now? She was getting angry now, her hands nearly vibrating as she searched for one of the old medical kits someone nicked off of a survivor. She wasn't even sure what she wanted from it, she wasn't hurt, she just needed something to take the low, dull ache away from her. She twitched in silence, The Entity's relief never coming to satiate The Pig. 

"Dear me, Amanda," a tender, yet cold and wispy voice said from the shadows, its owner floating into view shortly behind. The Nurse floated toward Amanda almost gently, her entire affect awash with concern. She sat next to Amanda the best she could, still floating ever so slightly above The Pig's worn cot. "You look unwell. Will you allow me to help?" Sally's arm drifted to Amanda's, regarding it carefully, like a wounded animal. The Pig huffed slightly. 

"I'm okay, Sally. Thanks for the offer, but I'm okay," not helping her point, Amanda threw her head back against the nearby wall, letting out a long sigh, "Just fuckin exhausted. I mean, it wasn't even a bad trial, I just... Shit, it's catching up with me." She reached down and massaged the muscles in her legs, as if to emphasize her point. The Nurse let out a low, breathy hiss, he head shaking slightly. 

"Strange," she deadpanned, cocking her head in a way that reminded Amanda of Michael. 

"Wait, what the hell do you mean, strange?" Amanda rolled her eyes at herself, resting her head in her hand and laughing, "I mean, I know this is weird, but you're acting... What are you thinking about?" The Nurse levitated slightly higher. 

"I'm thinking about Adiris." Amanda wasn't sure what answer she was expecting, but that was definitely not it. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen her in a while, but that wasn't exactly a strange enough occurrence for Amanda to care. Sometimes one of them pulled double time in trials, it wasn't exactly reason for alarm. But Sally's words were haunted, distant and full of reflection that The Pig couldn't explain. 

"What about her?" Amanda asked hesitantly, slowly and arduously standing up. 

"She's been... Concerned. Hasn't left her shrine in several trials," Sally said darkly, "I asked Anna to watch over her while I went to my last trial, and she confirmed my worries." Amanda had no idea how to respond. Still mulling over the news, she fumbled out a response. 

"I mean, what's she praying for? Has to be important to stay locked up that long." Sally nodded. 

"I've been wondering that for a while. I've asked her, but she seems anxious." The Pig's eyes went wide, her breathing growing slightly more erratic. That's not how this was supposed to work. She got anxious, Max got anxious, Bubba got anxious, hell, even Evan got anxious, but Adiris? She always said that her happiness was tied to The Great One, and that so long as it was content, so was she. 

And if she was unsure and anxious, so was something a whole hell of a lot more powerful. 

"I was just going to check on her now," Sally said softly, "You can certainly join me, if you like." Amanda hesitated for a moment, a wave of apprehension barreling into her momentarily, but a surge of strength took over. 

If things were, in fact, going to hell as quickly as she thought they might be, she'd rather know than be taken by surprise. 

The walk to Adiris' makeshift shrine was not long by any account, but it felt like a short eternity to The Pig. Even after her conversation, her legs still ached and her head still throbbed, the usual relief still nowhere to be found. But she bit it back, pushing ahead to the threshold of the high priestess' personal room. Sally lead the way, hesitantly approaching further. 

"Adiris? Do you want to talk?" The Nurse almost whispered, "Do you mind if I come closer?" Something in the air itself shifted. 

"Amanda has returned?" Oh shit. Wonderful. Now not only was the closest connection to whatever was keeping them here freaking out for some inexplicable reason, she was also calling for Amanda by name. 

"Yeah?" Amanda responded confusedly, trying not to let her fear show through, "I'm right here, why?" The priestess sighed heavily. 

"Has it come to soothe your aches? Has it come to restore you after your latest trial?" Adiris' voice was terrifyingly desperate, as if she was willing Amanda to answer in a way The Pig knew she couldn't. 

"No.." Amanda whispered, "Why... What's wrong?" Adiris turned to face the other two now, her head bowed low. 

"The last time I went to face the wayward souls, I felt glimpses of my life without it. It felt as if the illness stopped affecting me, and I... I heard the cries of my people. Just as sorrowful as they were before I came here." Amanda and Sally listened to the fearful story intently, Adiris' grandiose voice quickly beginning to draw a small crowd, "So I asked it why it showed me such wretchedness, what it wished for me to learn, and..." Adiris breathed almost meditatively, "It told me that those were things it did not wish to show me." There was a small flurry of concerned conversation. 

"I thought it controlled everything here," Amanda spoke up anxiously, her mind unable to keep up with the priestess. 

"It does," Adiris was quick to correct, "But I feel as if it's straining." 

"The fuck you mean, strainin?'" Caleb asked sharply, spitting at the ground as he sauntered toward the others. Adiris shot him a look. 

"Something is weakening it. It tries to watch over us, but it is losing its hold." There was a long, almost eerie moment of silence among the killers, some silently relieved, others beginning to subtly panic. 

"Forgive me, Adiris, but I feel I must ask," The Wraith bellowed, his head tilting upward to meet the priestess' eyes, "Is it going to let us go?"

"The Great One does not want to," Adiris said darkly, raising her lantern to properly herald the news, "But I fear soon it may not have another choice."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There ya go! I hope you're at least sort of intrigued. Comments and kudos mean the absolute world to me! Thank you for reading, and have a great day!


	3. Reaching Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a trial, Nancy makes contact with home in a way she didn't expect, and Felix gets a surge of motivation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support so far! This chapter should be an interesting one, and I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> No major outside of canon warnings again, however, this one does get pretty emotional. I might recommend a tissue if you're so inclined. You have been warned.

Nancy's next trial was an exercise in focus. Steve's amazing admission combined with Adam's words at the campfire had set a fire within Nancy, her drive to find out what was going on and if there might be a way out overpowering even her fear of the monster she would face down in the trial. She payed attention to every slight variant in the wind, every slight change in her heartbeat to see if maybe, just maybe, she would catch something that would get her out. 

It didn't take long for her to realize it was The Demogorgon, she'd recognize that snarl anywhere. In a sick way, it was sort of comforting for Nancy. It was viscous, it was dark, but it was familiar; and hell, that was better than nothing.

In some backhanded way, Nancy looked at it like a connection to home, a way to bridge the gap, if even for a moment. 

\---- 

Hawkins, Indiana

"Are you sure you feel safe doing this, El? Last time it was really hard on you, and..." 

"Mike," Eleven said firmly, gripping his shoulder, "It's okay... I can find them."

"Do you even know if this will work? I mean...." 

"The monster is with them. I can go to them," she glanced up at Hopper, the firmness in her eyes sharply contrasting the hesitation of the others in the room, "I can help." The chief nodded, guiding her toward the center of the room, and gently into the large, salt pool Dustin and Lucas had only recently finished. She sank into the pool calmly, reaching out and through the dense fog, Nancy and Steve firmly on her mind. 

\----

There were two generators remaining, and Nancy hadn't even been chased. She teamed up with Felix for a good majority of the time, who also said he hadn't gotten close to the open-faced monster all match. On top of that, the generators seemed to almost be fixing themselves, whirring to life faster than Nancy had previously thought possible. It was nice, in all honesty, it made for a lot less anxiety within the trial, but she couldn't deny it was a bit unnerving.

Kate's words rang heavily in her head. _Yeah,_ she thought, _things are getting a lot easier._ She wanted to believe that it was a good sign, that it was an indicator of real change, but nothing came that easily in this realm. There had to be a catch, some way that it would get back at them for being so stupid that they were hopeful just because some freak hallucination showed up. 

But regardless, Nancy looked. She scoured the trial grounds for any real evidence she could find, something to make the group's hunch into something more solid. As she heard the trademark chime of yet another finished generator, she turned to the nearest totem and got to work, biding her time until the nearby gates powered up. 

That's when she heard it. 

It was quiet enough to almost ignore, timid and confused enough to almost be written off as a hallucination. But something drew her attention to it, and held it like a vise. Nancy wasn't sure why, but she couldn't look away. Until she heard it once again. 

"Nancy?" A girl's voice said unsurely, her voice sounding obscured by some strange fog. She could barely believe it. 

"El? Is that... Is that you?" 

"Where's Steve? Where are you?" Nancy did a double take, looking for the physical source of the timid voice. 

"I...." Nancy chuckled aimlessly, "Steve's not here right now, and... I don't know. I honestly don't know." Eleven was silent for a moment, leaving Nancy extremely concerned. "El? Are you still there?" 

"Yes. Yes..." Eleven trailed off, drawing a breath loud enough for Nancy to hear, "How can we... How can we find you?" Nancy almost teared up, her head shaking mindlessly. 

"I wish I knew..." Nancy trailed off numbly.

"We're coming... We're coming for you. We're going to find a way," Eleven said quickly. Nancy was almost at a loss for words. As the ground started to splinter, and the blaring sound of the exit gates creaking open, she managed only a short response to El. 

"Hurry." As if on cue, a violent roar pierced the air. Nancy's eyes darted to the gates just behind her, and to Bill's violent hand gestures which beckoned her to get to the gate. "El, I have to go.." She sucked in a deep breath, "Please, don't give up on us." 

\----

Eleven thrashed up from the pool almost violently, Hopper coming to her side in an instant. The radio they'd used to keep track of what the people on the other side were saying let out a mighty hiss after the roar, causing most people in the room to flinch violently. There was a long, somber moment of silence, punctuated only by the occasional tear-laced breath. Mike found the words first. 

"Was that the...." 

"Demogoron. Yeah," Will answered with a hollow tone, his posture upright and frozen and his face swimming with unspoken memories. Jonathan almost winced. 

"So they're in the Upside Down then?" 

"No," El cut off Jonathan's thinking quickly, "Further. Darker." The group looked at each other tentatively, fear and confusion ruminating throughout the circle. 

"El, hey, what do you mean?" Hopper said steadily, attempting to ground the trembling girl. Eleven shook her head, her eyes heavy in confusion. 

"I..." She squeaked out feebly, "I don't know." 

\---- 

Nancy, Bill and Jane were standing watch near the gate, barely within Felix's sight line, and he fully intended to join them in leaving. Hell, he felt bad for holding them up as he weaved between the rocks and walls littering the map. He was ready to join them as soon as he got there, in part relieved to make it out of another trial, but in part biting back disappointment at the fact that he didn't see anything like the others described, but a noise stopped him.

It was so flagrantly out of place in this hellhole, so light and gentle and innocent; and even over the roar of the exit gates, Felix could hear it loud and clear. 

The joyful cooing of a baby. 

It pulled Felix toward it by some invisible string deep in his gut, clawing at him in a way so instinctual he couldn't describe. Even through the deafening churning of the slowly cracks in the ground, he sought out that sound like it was the only thing that mattered. His emotions only boiled up further when he saw a figure standing in front of him. His girlfriend, smiling at him with tears in her eyes and looking somehow even more beautiful and striking than the last time he'd seen her. Her eyes were haunted but relieved, washed with heaps of emotion as she glanced between him and the infant tightly swaddled in her arms. 

"Felix," she said breathlessly, tears falling down her cheeks, "I never thought I..." Felix closed the gap between them in an instant, opening his arms on instinct and allowing her to fall into them. Her head made contact with his shoulder, an action he answered with a firm forehead kiss without thinking, and the baby _his son_ reached out for his jacket, making contact ever so slightly. His mind was racing in every possible direction, almost giddy at the conclusion he was slowly reaching. 

_This was real. This had to be real._

_You can't touch a hallucination._

The others were no doubt gone by now, the ever louder groan of the gates not even registering in his mind. "He has your eyes, my love," she said softly, gesturing to the perfect little boy in her arms. Felix smiled down at him, his eyes growing watery. 

"It's nice to meet you, little guy," he said softly, mustering the best baby talk he could. His voice was raw and tired, worn down from the screaming that invaded his every moment in a trial. She drew closer into his chest, allowing his son to curl closer to his father. The baby quieted even further, cooing contentedly. 

"He loves you already." Felix beamed, allowing his son to wrap his hand around one of his fingers. 

The gates let out another loud groan, and Felix sighed heavily. He wasn't sure what was happening, what would happen when he woke up, or even if he was dooming himself to the pain he thought he was. 

But regardless, he couldn't let them see this. 

So he kissed her deeply, and hooked his finger gently as if to hold his son's hand, and resolutely turned away, tears flooding his vision. There was no reaction from behind him, and the trial was almost eerily quiet, leaving space for Felix's thoughts to be the only thing he listened to. 

As usual, he hardly felt it when the strange, spindly stake came up and through his chest. 

There was only a moment of utter, blissful darkness before he awoke to the calming sound of a crackling campfire. When he came to, he quickly realized that he was sitting next to a visibly trembling Nancy, and that every pair of eyes that had sat around that campfire was locked onto him, suspicion and confusion and palpable fear in all of their gazes. 

"Either of you care to tell us what happened in there?" Bill said gruffly, taking to the front of the group. Felix stared at his lap, using every ounce of will he had to stop his hands from shaking. 

"Adam was right," he took a steep pause, trying to curtail his racing thoughts, "Something's really changing."

"Not just changing," Nancy added, sharply breaking from her haze, "Getting weaker." Nancy looked around at all of the other survivors, letting out a nervous but tangibly hopeful laugh, "I don't think it's showing us this stuff," she paused, a strong conviction taking over, "I think some things are starting to get through."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think? I hope you're liking reading this half as much as I'm liking writing this! 
> 
> I appreciate comments and kudos SO much! Have a wonderful rest of your day.


	4. Proof Positive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Survivors make a plan, and realize it's not just them that are being affected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really feeling this fic right now, so enjoy the frequent updates for a bit!
> 
> No outside of canon warnings this chapter!

"She's right," Felix said softly, his voice trembling, "There's something going on here, you guys, I don't know what the hell..." 

The others around the campfire exchanged a look Felix couldn't decipher. Dwight cleared his throat loudly. 

"Okay, how many of you have had some sort of encounter like this? Show of hands." Felix's hands shot up, Nancy, Steve and Laurie trailing shortly behind. Quentin raised his hand next, and for a moment, that was all. 

Until Meg's hand raised, slowly and carefully. Dwight turned to her in confusion. "Why didn't you mention anything?" Meg laughed softly. 

"I mean, like Laurie said. I thought it was just me. I guess... I guess I didn't know what to say. I just don't believe...." Meg trailed off, shaking her head slowly and resting her face in her hands. "If I told someone that I saw it, that meant it was real. That meant there was hope, and shit, I didn't want to torture myself with hope for something like that because of some hallucination."

"It wasn't a hallucination," Felix cut her off sharply, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance. 

"How do you know?" 

"You can't touch a fucking hallucination. At least not any that I've heard of." The survivors fell dead silent. 

"Did you?" Dwight asked, his even demeanor failing him. Felix almost scoffed. 

"Of course I did. I got a chance to hold my boy, something I thought I'd never be able to do because of this damned place..." Felix said through gritted teeth, tears slowly starting to spill over, "Maybe if I'd held on longer it would have let me go home." 

"So what's our plan then, huh? Wait until it decides to spit us out back where we came from like none of this bullshit ever happened? Hold on to those visions for dear life?" Ash laughed as he spoke, shaking his head slightly, "Look guys, I wanna help you, I really do. But not all of us have white picket fences to go back to, ya know?" He made intent eye contact with Bill as he spoke, his tone much more somber than the casual snark he was known for. A silence took over the group that was long and heavy, realization setting in. Adam was the one to break the silence. 

"If I may," he offered calmly, his tone noticeably more even than compared to the others, "I don't think we can take any affirmative action. This thing has been keeping up here, killing us and bringing us back to life for who knows how long. What kind of shot do we have trying to overpower it?" Adam paused, positioning himself in the center of the group. "If we're going to do anything, we have to try and outsmart it. It's showing its weaknesses. All we have to do is figure out how to exploit them."

"Yeah, yeah that makes sense," Zarina said sharply, stepping closer to him, "What do we look for?" 

"Changes. Anything, big or small. You can learn big things from dumb shit sometimes," Tapp remarked, his hand resting slightly above his badge. Zarina nodded confidently, as if she was taking notes.

"And if one of us does get back, how... What are we supposed to say? Is... Is anybody gonna believe us?" Jeff asked almost timidly, "I mean, I don't wanna get back only to get locked up." 

"He makes a good point, Profe," Ace said coolly, "What are we gonna tell them?" Nancy and Steve looked at each other for a moment, a silent agreement falling between them.

"I don't know how to answer that. It will be different for all of us. But I agree. The truth will be... hard to swallow for most." Faint murmurs of 'no shit' bubbled up from the crowd, while others simply got to thinking. 

Jake Park had no idea how to interpret the realization. Sure, he was grateful for the potential to finally lose all of the bloodthirsty bastards, but it seemed like work, _exceedingly dangerous_ work. Was it even worth it for him to look this hard, when all that awaited him was a forest like this one? He sighed and brushed it off for a moment, nodding in hollow agreement before turning to go back to his tent.

It almost startled him when he suddenly went through a thick haze, and was staring down the familiar, yet intimidating structure of Crotus Prenn Asylum. He sighed, taking a look around him and readying himself to start another trial. It didn't take him longer than a few moments to find a generator, kneeling and beginning to work as he usually did. He was less than halfway through, about to connect one of the major wires when the roar of a chainsaw from right behind him made him jump more than he cared to admit. He turned on a dime, the generator sparking and blowing up loudly next in front of him as he turned as quickly as he could. 

Sure enough, The Cannibal was charging at him with his chainsaw revved. Jake started to run on instinct, turning his head every few seconds to track the killer's movements. He vaulted through a window quickly, eyeing a complex loop to his left, then turning back to The Cannibal. 

But he wasn't moving. He wasn't even holding his chainsaw or his hammer. His hands were clasped over his ears tightly, shaking his head and grunting loudly. If Jake wasn't mistaken, he'd say the noises sounded scared. 

Jake didn't know what to think, much less what to do. On one hand, this was still a killer, and he could use the time to get some distance, but then again, he was almost engrossed in what he was seeing. It was so amazingly strange, seeing someone so bloodthirsty so scared; and it made a small part of Jake believe there was something to this wild speculation. He made a note to tell the others. 

Keeping his eyes on the still immensely distraught killer, he walked away hesitantly, not noticing the walls slowly start to dissapear. Not noticing the subtle changes in the trees around him. Not until the chainsaw wielding killer faded completely from view, and the overwhelming constant dread that had permeated Jake's life since he arrived in the fog began to fade with him.

He jumped when he collided with a wooden wall, turning to face it and.... Oh. Holy fuck. 

He stared in disbelief at _his_ cabin, standing desolate, but just as he'd left it, down to the skis leaning up against the front porch. His hands shook as he walked in, pulling the door open and foolishly beaming at the surroundings. Every piece of furniture, every stain on the damned carpet nearly brought tears to his eyes. 

He nearly froze when he saw the phone. It was laying face-up in the center of the counter, just collecting dust. He didn't spare the moment to question why it was still there, he simply dove for it, turning it on _God, how did it have any battery?_ and pressing the first and only contact that came up. 

Mom 

His hand shook as the phone rang, waiting with baited breath as it rang once. It didn't take long for her to answer. "Why are you using this number? Have you found something?" She asked in alarmingly quick fashion. Jake sucked in a sharp and tearful breath at the sound of her voice. He spoke, and the world seemed to still. 

"Mom?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger? Ish? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Comments and Kudos mean the world! Have a great day!


	5. No Mither

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The seemingly impossible has occurred, and combined with a strange and terrifying new development, it sends the survivors into a tailspin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little update! Hope you like this one, as it's got some pretty big stuff in it. 
> 
> Injury depiction is a little more graphic than normal, so please be warned. 
> 
> Aside from that, enjoy!

"Jake? Sweeite, I..." His mother's voice wavered and he heard some sort of loud thud on the other end of the phone, and then the faint jingling of car keys. "I'm coming, okay? I'll be a few hours. Stay where you are, are you hurt?" Jake's mind was moving too fast to keep up.

"No, I don't... Shit, I..." Jake gave a watery laugh, silently inspecting himself for unseen blood in the mirror.

"Talk to me, Jake, please. Tell me where you've been. Tell me if you're okay," He shook his head at his own reflection.

_How in the hell was he supposed to answer that?_ Was he just meant to tell her he's been chased by a rotating gaggle of murderous creatures, some of which he was fairly sure he'd seen in movies? She wouldn't believe it was real, why would she.

But then again, he wasn't sure he believed what was happening either. How could this possibly be real? The Entity wouldn't just spit him out at his home like none of it ever happened, with nothing but a scar on his shoulder and the horrible memories in his head. 

Everything within him told him that soon enough, the ground would crack and groan, bright orange glowing fearsomely from below him. After that, it would only be a matter of time until the vines leapt up from the ground and went straight through his stomach, causing a surge in pain until he woke up in a haze at the campfire. 

But time kept ticking by. 

And Jake stayed there, present and normal and maybe even free, for yet another minute, and with every minute he stayed that way, hope creeped up within him. His mother's voice shook him from his stupor. 

"Jake? Talk to me sweetheart." 

"Hi... Yeah... Uh... I'm okay. At least.. I will be." He smiled at the phone distantly, his eyes still trained out of his window, waiting for it to finally finish the job, take him back into that hellish place. _It was nice being here for a little,_ he thought tearfully, _Just pull me out before she gets here. I don't want her to watch me get skewered... Please, just pull me back now. If you're gonna pull me back do it now._

"That's good, keep talking, okay? I won't be long, just.... Just breathe." He was trying. He was trying to convince himself that this was really happening, that she was coming, that she wasn't another empty promise made just to fuck with his head.

"Mom?" Jake's voice was weaker than he intended, trembling much more than he wanted to let on. The voice on the other end of the phone hummed a calm response, one that made Jake ache in a way he didn't realize he still could. His heart threatened to give out as he mustered up his next phrase, "I love you." 

"Love you too Jake, just talk to me okay? I love you too." He leaned back against the wall, his eyes slowly filling with tears. If it was fake, he would be okay if it crumbed in front of him now. He said what he needed to say. 

He resigned himself to be once again taken by the fog. 

And yet nothing happened. 

It was okay. _It was actually fucking okay_. 

And it stayed that way long enough for his mother to knock at his door.

\----

The campfire was swarmed with activity the second the three (wait, three?) survivors returned after the latest trial. David and Adam looked fine. Tired, sure, but nothing that raised any eyebrows. 

Jeff however, was... off. He walked with a stagger, his face was pinched in discomfort, and most concerningly of all, there was a faint trail of blood dripping from his lip. Claudette was next to him in a second when he slipped down onto a stump, gently peeling back his shirt and revealing a truly gnarly bruise, speckled with browns and greens and reds. Jeff winced hard as her hands ghosted around it, letting out pained grunts as she began to dress the wound.

"What the hell happened to him?" Laurie asked Bill sharply, gesturing to the wounded artist. Bill shook his head. 

"I don't... I don't know. Cannibal hit him bad right before he got to the gate. No idea why it hasn't started to heal yet." Laurie shook her head slightly, racking her brain for an answer. 

"Huh..." Laurie trailed off, another question suddenly hitting her mind, "Jake get offed or something?" It was the only logic Laurie could think to use to explain his absence. Even if he was hooked, he'd have been back by now. 

"I didn't hear anything..." Bill said darkly, searching his mind for a response. Laurie looked equally dumbfounded, and if Bill wasn't mistaken, almost scared. "Hey, no sense in worrying too much. If anyone could handle themselves out there it's that kid. Hell, he told me once that this place wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the killers. Reminds him of home." Laurie laughed. 

"Sounds like him." 

"Plus, we've got a more pressing issue to deal with," Bill's head cocked back in a gesture to Jeff, who was breathing so loudly and raggedly they could hear it from several feet away. 

"Did he get hit with something else in the trial? Something on the hammer, something attached to the freak?" Bill shook his head resolutely. 

"No. No, I don't think that's what changed," Bill said with a calm resoluteness, watching as Laurie's eyes grew wide in fear and confusion. 

"Then what are you suggesting...." after Laurie trailed off, a sudden look of realization hit her face with the force of a brick. The shift in her demeanor almost startled Bill, the change in the very air she stood in obvious to the man. Laurie's jaw fell open, her hand clasping over it violently and her head slowly shaking. 

"Laurie?" 

"Shit, Bill I..." She glanced to the others, still completely occupied by Jeff, who was still plainly in pain from the strike. "I think I know. I hope I'm wrong, but I think I know." Bill gestured for her to continue. "If it's really getting weaker, to the point where it can't keep us here, then maybe..." She trailed off darkly. Somber understanding fell over Bill's face. His response was slightly louder than intended, drawing the attention of the others immediately.

"It can't heal us anymore either."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooo, Unfortunate, huh? Thank you so much for reading! Comments and Kudos mean the absolute world! 
> 
> Have a great day!


	6. A Sweet Dream on Elm Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Injured and desperate, Quentin Smith takes a chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update time! This is a mini-character study, that gets fluffy as hell toward the end, but I hope it provides some interesting insight. Enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: Remake Freddy being an off-screen despicable piece of shit. More mildly graphic descriptions of injuries. Also, Quentin is going THROUGH it.

Quentin Smith sat near the campfire trying and utterly failing to wrap his head around the most recent developments. He wasn't fully sure that the conversations he'd been hearing about were real. Hell, how could they be? He was almost convinced that he was microsleeping again, that that was how he had seen Nancy, and how he'd been hearing such a beautifully foolish conversation. So it had to be some messed up dream, his subconscious' last hurrah before giving into the despair that was eating him alive. It wasn't real. 

There was evidence, sure. Jeff was still out of it, sitting on a rock and wincing at each of Claudette's gentle touches. The simple fact that he wasn't recovering, and even the killers were apparently reacting to _something_ did cause Quentin to ponder it. Not to mention, Jake was straight up gone, either waltzed off to some deeper pit of hell, or maybe by some miracle, freed from this endless and horrible cycle. The odds were fifty fifty optimistically, if Quentin was being honest with himself. He couldn't help but laugh pitifully, shaking his head at the fact that this was what he considered 'good news' to him.

Maybe there was something to this, but Quentin's rational mind won in the moment. 

It wasn't real.

But _fuck_ he wanted it to be. He would give anything for it to be. Even if it was only showing them glimpses of home to take it away, he was willing to fall for it for a moment of something resembling peace.

Hell, he was even willing to bring Freddy back with him. He would take a nightmare he could wake up from over one that consumed his every moment. Plus, he'd have Nancy and his dad and that? That alone counted for more than he could explain. 

His thoughts drifted to returning home, seeing Nancy, spending time with his dad. Sleeping in a real bed, his own bed, without the fear of being attacked in the night, or dragged away into yet another blood soaked trial. It'd be so nice. He made a promise with himself that he wouldn't take it for granted when the fog cleared for him, he'd be a better son, a better person, the best boyfriend he could be for Nancy, if he only got the chance.

He'd do what he could to thank the world for another chance, and the way it sounded, maybe he'd get it.

 _No, no, you dumbass. That's not going to happen,_ the voice in his head chastised him, _what evidence do you even have? Some half-baked blood loss hallucination you thought you saw when you were running for your life? Real substantial Quen, quite the fucking argument._

He clasped his hands over his head and dug his fingers in ever so slightly, shaking it roughly as if to snap himself out of some trance. As if the terrible feeling eating him alive from the moment he arrived in the realm wasn't enough, his own mind wouldn't let him have this fragment of hope. So, he sat in his tent on the floor and tried to clear his mind the best he could.

He closed his eyes. 

And opened them in front of Badham Preschool. 

He almost rolled his eyes, hell he would have if he wasn't so hopped up on fear. 

Adrenaline coursing through his veins, he made his way through the trial as normal, repairing a generator, stitching up a bear trap wound Meg's ankle as he silently appreciated the fact that it wasn't Freddy. He was chased for a while, The Trapper landing a solid, painful slash on the inner side of his shoulder before dropping the chase with no warning, leaving him by himself a few feet from one of the trial's outer walls. He hugged the wall for a moment, trying to make sure he had the best field of view he could. 

One of his hands graced along the bricks while the other covered his sluggishly bleeding cut, his eyes darting around the map for a generator, or god forbid the killer. 

He nearly fell over when his hand suddenly lost contact with the wall. He stood quickly and turned to face the strange interruption, only to see a long, wide path before him. Immediately, something churned in Quentin's stomach. 

The fact that there was a massive, strange hole in the trial's wall was strange enough, but something about that line was so immensely familiar. It pulled him in like a siren's song, beautiful and hopeful enough to pull him down the street, through a thick layer of fog, and on to a street he never thought he'd see again

The long rows of Dutch Colonial homes, the well-trimmed suburban bushes, the sun beginning to set (how long had it been since he'd seen that?) and the general ambiance of familiarity stirred something in Quentin's gut, something that made him press on. Down the rows, past the people _People? People that weren't the others?_ and to his utter disbelief, to his own doorstep. 

He froze at the end of his driveway, an invisible wall of pain and relief and gnawing loneliness preventing him from moving any closer. He smiled with tears in his eyes. 

It was real.

He was home.

\----

Alan Smith barged through his garage door, setting posters down on the counter in a huff. He sat on the couch and slammed his head into his hands, rubbing his temples and fighting back tears.

It's going to be three years tomorrow. 

Three years since his only son vanished into thin fucking air, leaving the police and even the feds baffled. Three years since he lost the only family he had left, three years of coming back to a house that was so empty and cold that it made his skin crawl. 

She would know what to do if she was still here. He'd thought that after he saw his boy's scarred back and terrified eyes, and let his rage consume him, and shit, did he think that now. Back then, it was because Quentin needed his mother. Now, it was him who needed someone, anyone. Loneliness and worry were taking turns eating him alive, and the thought of relieving even one of those concerns was too appealing for him to describe.

He'd been contacted by an obscene amount of true crime shows, all of them saying something to the essence of "this is one of the strangest cases we've ever seen," or "We'd be honored to get the inside story from your perspective." He didn't even give them the time of day. It wasn't something they should get the chance to monetize, and something told him the exposure wouldn't help anything.

He'd tried therapy, he'd tried searches, he'd even tried those stupid ass support groups, but none of it helped. He still felt useless, weak and targeted. His kid wasn't there for him to protect, and whoever did this to him wasn't sitting right in front of him. 

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't just burn this problem to the ground. 

He sighed and kicked his feet onto the coffee table, lolling his head to look out the window. The night was as dark and bleak as they all had been since Quentin had gone missing, his mind inevitably beginning to stray to where his son was. Did he have shelter for the night? Food? Water? Hell was he even alive to need it? He closed his eyes hard, willing the thought away. 

It would be so much easier if he was here, whether that be on the couch next to him, or in the ground next to his mother. One way or another, he just wanted to know. 

And then, like an answer from above, there was a knock at the door. 

Alan gathered himself, and went to the door as quickly as he could, casually turning to face the door and the window inside of it. When he caught sight of the person at the door, he stopped dead in his tracks. 

The kid before him leaned on the door with a pained, desperate look on his face, his curls were matted and dirty, and his clothes were worn and torn in every way, but yet all Alan could feel was relief. He gently, dumbstruckly pulled Quentin's head into his shoulder, wrapping his arms around his son without a word. By the sound of the strangled sob that Quentin let out in response, the relief was mutual. Whispering into his hair soothingly, Alan guided Quentin further into the house, sitting him down on the couch and letting him slump into his arms. 

A few precious, peaceful moments passed before he noticed the blood slowly seeping out of his son's chest and into his shirt. _God, where the hell had he been?_

"I'm gonna go grab the first aid kit bud, I'll be just one second, okay?" 

"Dad?" He said softly, burrowing his head into his father's chest as if willing him not to move.

"Yeah bud?" Alan only slightly shifted his weight, hating how loudly Quentin keened when he did. 

"You're really here. Fuck, you're really here..." Quentin slurred, his tears only growing more intense with every moment. Alan didn't know what to say. His heart was aching for his boy, and the implications of the phrase made him nauseous. But he bit it back, instead pulling the boy closer for a moment and gently, running a hand through his hair. 

"Yeah Quen, yeah I'm right here. Keep your hand on that gash for me, okay? I'm gonna take care of you, alright?" Those words cut Quentin to the core as he shakily buried his head into the couch, drinking in the familiarity of his surroundings, the familiarity he thought he'd lost forever. 

HIs father returned within minutes, beginning to clean his wounds with the measured calmness of a man who had never seen the fear and panic of a trial. A man who wasn't distracted by the horror that permeated Quentin's life for so long. The low, gentle hum of his father's voice combined with the sensation of care lulled Quentin to sleep before he could stop himself. 

And of course, Freddy Krueger showed up in his dreams. However, he wasn't the usual tormenting presence he was in Quentin's dreams. 

All he did was lie on the floor in a charred heap, screaming and yowling like an animal as fire crawled up and around his form. 

Quentin sat back and watched silently, a small smile crossing his face. The air filled with a sense of permanence. 

Because Quentin Smith was home. 

And Freddy Krueger was burning. For good.


End file.
